Up, up, up....and then down.

We had a wonderful time this past weekend: It was our wedding anniversary (six years), and the in-laws were kind enough to take the kids for a few hours so we could celebrate on Sunday. We headed to the Hard Rock Casion near Tampa and then went out to for an awesome, carb-filled Italian dinner and drinks. Just the two of us, and I really enjoyed myself. It was all-in-all a perfect weekend, despite the fact we didn't win big at the casino.

So I'm having a hard time comprehending why, come Monday evening after riding high on the 'perfect weekend' vibes all day at work, I found myself in such a funk. A funk that has overpowered everything that I've done the last few days, including my writing and being around other people. Was it a bad case of the Monday Blues, i.e. having to go back to the grind of regularly scheduled work and activities, that brought me down? It felt as though someone was letting the air slowly out of my balloon, and all too soon I was back down to the Earth, but instead of landing on solid ground and gaining my feet, I am being sucked down into quick sand. There's an inner turmoil that has no business being there, and the cause is one I haven't been able to pinpoint exactly.

I think I've posted on MyFaceTwit maybe once or twice of the last few days, and it wasn't until last night that I wrote something, but that was only after I had to force myself to do it. It was the closest I've gotten so far to ditching the entire project - an action that I know would only make matters worse and turn this 'funk' into a deep depression.

One thing I considered was the fact that it has been raining nonstop here in Florida for the last three days with more to come, but a break from the sweltering heat and humidity usually pleases me as I love the rain. I have hope that in a day or so when nasty Yellow Face makes a reappearance, that my spirits will be lifted as well. Until then, I'll just have to cope, I suppose.

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Write Right

It is damn hot outside. Temperature today in the upper 90's and dry as hell. Where is a coven of water witches doing their naked rain dances when we need them?

That is not what this about, though. Maybe later.

No, this is about failure, and the fear of it.

I hate this feeling, this feeling of uncertainty in regards to my writing. There is a persistent nagging feeling of not being worthy enough to finish the story. I think that part of the reason is that I'm having a hard time finding the groove when real life keeps interrupting. And I understand that it is supposed to - I work full time Monday through Friday, with a wonderful family and supportive husband that need me. I'm unable to sit down when the mood strikes and fully commit to the story. I've planned for such, which is why Synnove will not be fully released in final draft until late this year and only after I've let a select few rip into it with gigantic red pens and slice away at my heart...

I almost tossed Synnove into the City of Lost Scenes - a binder that I keep of all my writing, no matter if I've used it in a story or not. For some characters and plots it is their graveyard, for others, limbo. Synnove was going to go into the former. I'm frustrated with how sloppy my dialogue has played the last few scenes, how I find myself skipping over things because to me its all beginning to feel like a build up to the scenes I really want to write. Then I started to let the fear win, and even though that is completely my usual MO, I am indeed going to keep moving forward. Because really, what else is there?

It wasn't until this morning after I had risen from my common morning sulking that I realized I was doing it wrong. Why not write the scenes I want..now? Stop waiting to make them dance when I already have the complete character bios; I know who they are, what they want, what they need, but take advantage of the scenes being so fresh in my head. Then go back and re-write the scenes that I was stalling.

I have also come to the conclusion that I'm just an all over happier person once I've been fed and have 4-5 hours to fully wake up. I've never been a morning person and if things start off rough, it can ruin a good part of my day. It would probably help if I went to bed a little earlier, say 10pm instead of midnight or later. One of these days I'll figure out that my body can't do those things anymore.

So here's to taking care of those basic needs, like food and sleep!

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Why can't we just love one another?

There's a reason I don't watch the news on a regular basis, other than to catch the weather report during the winter months (or days as this is Florida) so I know whether or not to put a jacket on Mini-Me. I can only take so many stories about beatings, shootings, hate-crimes, etc. But recently I've found myself tuning in more due to what's been going on out of Orlando, and am yet again reminded that Man is Man's biggest enemy, not only to himself, but to his family.

We have this case out of Lakeland.

Then there is this case out of Tampa.

Or how about this one out of Orlando.

Not sick to your stomach yet? We can't forget this pretty little gem, also out of Orlando.

I mean, holy shit, what the hell is wrong with people???? Were these people just not loved at all by their parents? Or were they all products of the fucked-up society that we live in? I could add another 100 stories to this list, just for the Central Florida area. It makes me want to bang my head on a brick wall, or completely cut myself off from any media whatsoever. I cry for humanity.

There is one positive thing to come out of hearing some of these stories, though. I am yet again reminded that I married a wonderful, caring man who has never hit me, threatened me, or has made me fear for my life. Of course, our marriage isn't perfect (there is no such thing), but we love and respect each other, and try not to take each other for granted. I am very much grateful that I snagged one of the 'good guys', and my heart goes out to those women who were not so lucky.

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Not in Kansas anymore

No, I haven't dropped off the planet as of late, only out of the social scenes for the time being. I've been busy with work, my writing and family. It's hard to balance the three, but I make the most out it. Even if I can only write a little here and there, I'm still writing and that is all that matters.

Last night, I dreamt of tornados - multiple ones falling from a darkened sky, while we were in a house unfamiliar to me. My husband was trying to secure something outside during the storm, and the tornados kept coming closer. I was curious and looked up the meaning in a dream dictionary:

To see a tornado in your dream, suggests that you are experiencing some extreme emotional outbursts and temper tantrums. Is there a situation or relationship in your life that may be potentially destructive?

To dream that you are in a tornado, signifies that you are feeling overwhelmed and out of control. You will be met with a series of disappointments for the next week or so. Your plans will be filled with complications.

To see several tornadoes in your dream, represent people around you who are prone to violent outbursts and shifting mood swings. It may also symbolize a volatile situation or relationship.

I thought this was interesting. I wasn't actually inside of any of the tornados, and don't feel particulary overwhelmed by anything... unless it's in regards to my writing...

I don't feel as though I'm in any type of volatile relationship or situation. I'm chalking it up to just a dream at this point, but sometimes my mind has a way of messing with me, leaving me with questions.

Are the tornados significant? Who knows. Maybe I'm missing something, a sign that maybe a storm is just what I need...

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